Goodbyes sucks. Not because I will miss the person I am saying it to, but because it involves having to have another conversation with someone I likely don’t give a fuck about. The Irish really figured that shit out by just peacing out without saying a word. So the fact I have to say goodbye to two things this week… is socially draining as fuck.
One of them is easy… cause one of them is to Scott Stevens. Because one way or another, we are fucking done after this match. I fucking swear, I am fucking done with you Stevens. I am going to murder you one more time… hopefully literally as I put an emphatic end to this seemingly endless saga where It’s pretty clear who has been… the best.
I’ll prove one more time that you are over you head when it comes to competing with me on any fucking level. I mean even with the diabolical mind of Lee Best at your disposal, you continue with these half ass attacks to try and get my attention that you so desperately need. When I wanted your attention years ago, I injected you with black tar heroin and kidnapped your family. What did you do after I nearly blew your ass up at Dead or Alive? Attack Carey and my not even blood related grandson?
If it wasn’t for the fact I want to get you back for crucifying me, this match wouldn’t even be worth my fucking time. I’ve gotten nothing to prove or gain in HOW. I’m done after this match. So I’m not angling for a title shot… or trying to move up the rankings. I just want to crucify Scott Stevens on that fucking cross for my own joy and entertainment. I could care less about the “match” that we are having… cause a win or loss does nothing for me. It’s not going to hurt or help my legacy here in HOW.
Which brings me to the second goodbye… the toughest fucking goodbye of my life… the goodbye to HOW.
It’s been nearly fifteen years since I met Lee Best and joined High Octane Wrestling… and despite our ups and downs in the business, my HATE for him at times… I still and forever will consider him a brother. I was his second in command at times… and at the bottom of his shit list at others. We have been through it all… but I have always been one hundred percent loyal to HOW. It was a no brainer… which is lucky for me… to rejoin HOW when Lee decided to resurrect it. So when you say you have this connection to Lee Best and #97Red… know that it is still NOTHING compared to the nearly fifteen years of shit that me and him have shared here.
It’s honestly astonishing the shit that has happened in my life during that time. The way I have evolved… through the incredible highs… and shitty ass lows. I have met so many cool people here and have made lifelong friends. People who I could chat with back when I didn’t have many friends. HOW has been there through it all… and when it was gone before, it felt like a large portion of me was missing.
The return of HOW has maybe not gone the way I would have hoped when it came to titles… but it was exactly what I needed in my life at times. When things in my life were going to shit… HOW was a constant, it was always there. I know it’s not something everyone can understand, but HOW has been so important to my life… and I dare not imagine HOW things would be if I didn’t have HOW.
It’s why, despite being fairly checked out from HOW over the past six months, that I am constantly drawn back to it… pulled back into the turmoil, the chaos… the mayhem. I honestly don’t know how I am going to feel once HOW is fully gone from my life. When I don’t have that escape. In a way though it has been gone for a long time. Things have not been the same for a while. I miss the crazy High Octane Radios, bullshiting with Lee and the boys and doing Century Clubs while we yell at America or Stevens for their timing skills.
Fuck, another thing you suck at, surprise, fucking surprise Stevens. Only thing you don’t suck at is fucking my elbow up. I think I still got a scar from that fucking sandpaper hotel wall.
Yeah, there have been glimpses of the past fun here and there… like a few nights in Chicago where everyone just put their issues and feuds to the side and we just hung out. It was a game changing moment almost for the business. Showing that we all had a human side. But shhh… we don’t wanna ruin the kayfabe immersion of this crazy fucking game where people have been known to comeback from the dead.
Honestly, wrestling has always seemed just like a means to get to the fun part of this business, and that was hanging out with the boys… yes Carey, that of course includes you. Which maybe would surprise you all considering all the shit I took over the years. Like I’ve taken more crap than anyone… with only Stevens and Zion even being able to make a fucking argument. But for some reason it was still always fun… it could be my masochistic personality.
From Skype chats with Carey, Static, Carmen and Silver Cyanide… to High Octane Radios with Lee, Max, Sektor, Rhys and Mike…. to Light Octane Radio with Zion, Solex and yes, even you Stevens. Like I said, it’s been a long ass saga between us. Like everyone else in HOW, we have had our ups and our downs with each other.
We are a family… plain and fucking simple. Sometimes we get along… sometimes we wanna murder each other. The latter is now especially true for you Stevens. So let me dispense with the extremely rare sappy emotional bullshit and bring things back around to something everyone is more used to from The Hardcore Artist.
If I am leaving HOW at Rumble at the Rock… I am going out with a blaze of fucking glory. That dumpster fire will be waiting for you Stevens… and I am going to burn this fucker down to the ground with me if it takes my last and final breath. Like I said, a win or loss doesn’t do me shit… but leaving everyone in HOW with one of the craziest memories ever on my way out… oh that is more than any title I could win come Sunday. Though if Lee would like to hand me the LSD Title, I’d gladly save my favorite child from that scuz-tastic, creep-show, spineless shithole.
Please murder that asshole Carey… that would be the best going away present you could get me.
Let me channel my inner Kostoff for a moment Stevens… since he is the man that put me on the map in HOW when i defeated him multiple times for the LSD Title. I am going to fucking rip you to fucking shreds in this match Stevens, tear apart joint by joint, not because I have to, but because I want to. Because I enjoy watching you squirm in pain, because I like it when I see the blood run down your face or when I hear your bones snap. You’ll never be the same after what I did to you at Dead or Alive… but you will be nothing after I stop your heart and drive the fucking live from your prison tattooed inked ass. I mean did Micheal J Fox draw that fucking Texas state outline on your flabby ass tit?
So please run that… peoplepleaser… we gotta be politically correct now Kostoff… and I will stick my fucking boot down it and make you fucking choke on it like the whore you are. Because you have fucking sold yourself out worse then when I tried to become corporate Scotty. Fuck was that an idea that maybe sounded good on paper, but in reality blew fucking chunks worse then Stevens after I am done violating his throat hole with my fucking boot.
Damn I miss Kostoff… and I can see why he loves doing those kinds of promos… that shit is fun as Hell.
You think you are going to get one last rub off me on my way out the door Stevens… but the only thing you are going to be rubbing is your limp ass cock. I’m not doing any favors on my way out the door… and in fact I’m gonna make sure it hits you hard as shit on my way out Stevens. That’s if I haven’t burned the door down by then of course. I think Lee may have underestimated what I plan to do come Sunday… the Hell I am willing to unleash… the utter fucking anacrhy that HOW is going to witness. I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit here in HOW over the years… but Sunday… Rumble at the Rock… it is going to be taken to a whole different level that no one in HOW is going to be ready for.
If you thought that Scottywood was going to just fade away from HOW without leaving one of the craziest fucking marks on the fed it has ever seen… well then you are the biggest fucking fool in the world. I still have what it takes to dig down deep and pull out one last show stealing performance.
The fire is still burning here not in the chapel, raging from centuries old wood and enough gasoline to require the canister he has left over to be locked up while not in use. Fucking eh California… and these are the prices after shit came down. Think Scotty can burn Stevens alive with a Tesla? If anyone can, it will be The Hardcore Artist whose finds a way.
Scotty looks down at the fire, mesmerized by the flames as he lets them wash away the worries of the world. There is something calling about the destruction of a fire. The burning of the flames through the wood, the finality of the ashes blowing away into near nothingness. He then turns to the cross inside the chapel and imagines Scott Stevens crucified to it and engulfed in flames.
“Scott Stevens, burning while nailed to a cross… Jack Frost laying dead at his toes.” He sings before taking another drink of his beer, clearly a bit intoxicated, but who the fuck didn’t expect that shit. What else is there for the man to do while he awaits Scott Stevens to drag his sorry, sad, shit filled ass to his island.
“I’m tired Stevens… tired of waiting for you… tired of dealing with you… tired of watching you parade around HOW like some kind of wannabe savior you thinks he is somehow now going to spread the word of Lee Best. Who the fuck left in this world doesn’t know who Lee Best is and what that man is capable of? You’re preaching to the fucking choir already Stevens. You are a redundant tool whose existence is fucking useless. It’s time I clean things up and save HOW from the leach that is Scott Stevens who has been sucking off the underbelly of HOW like a fucking paraasite.” Declares Scotty as he just shakes his head, knowing the words that would likely come out of Stevens mouth if he had the balls to be face to face with Scotty right now. Not hiding behind sneak attacks and no contact clauses in some bullshit match contract.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you think I am dead weight in HOW, dead weight you are going to trim from the prime rib that is HOW and help it carry out without me. Well son, I’d take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror first, cause if I ma dead weight, then you’re more like the fucking fungus on the unwashed grundle of HOW. The toe jam that you dig out from between your feet. The shit that stuck to your ass hairs cause you didn’t wipe good enough. A fucking dingleberry… that is about as good as you are to HOW Stevens and come Alcatraz I am going to flush you miserable life down the drain where it fucking belongs.”
Reaching towards the ground, Scotty grabs a roll of barbed wire as he finishes his beer and tosses the bottle into a corner of the chapel. He then starts to wrap the barbed wire around the cross, covering the holy symbol with his most unholy of weapons. That sick smile starts to grow on his face as he finishes wrapping the barbed wire around the cross, leaving it ready to torture the body of Scott Stevens when he inevitably shreds the skin of him on it.
“You wanted The Hardcore Artist’s attention… you got it. You want The Fucking Anti-Christ of HOW? Here the fuck I am! You wanted Scottywood one last time… well trust me… it will be the last time. Wrapped in a crown of barbed wire and nailed to a cross, I will make you the #97Red martyr you wanted to be… the only problem is no one is going to give a fuck. No one that is but me Stevens. Like I said, this “match”, if you even want to call it that, is for no one except for myself. For my own sick pleasure as I torture the shit out of you one last time before putting you out of your fucking misery before I close the doors on HOW forever.”
He reaches down one more time to the floor and picks up a canister of gasoline and a stick of what seems to be dynamite. He continues to smile as he places them on the altar near the cross and flips off the camera… or probably just Scott Stevens.
“So goodbye Scott Stevens… goodbye HOW. It has been a hell of a ride… and before I go, I am going to make sure I take you all down into the deepest levels of Hell. Which is certainly something I can drink, drank, drunk to. Cheers you fuckers.”